Facades

AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

DISCLAIMER: I am not now-- nor have I ever been-- Joss Whedon.

RATING: NC-17-ish, I think...

PAIRING: S/A

DISTRIBUTION: My site, and those I've said yes to...

FEEDBACK: would be nice (I think...)...

DEDICATIONS: to Jeannette-- for my site... also, to those who liked the first 5 parts of this...

NOTES: this series started at the end of the ep where Glory tortured poor, dear Spike bloody. In my world, 'Epiphany' happened around the same time. * *= emphasis.

POV: Sweet Spike's.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

So he caught me. The bloody fucking ponce actually *caught* *me*! And yeah, okay, I wasn't being exactly subtle about it, but still... Didn't expect the Brooding Wonder to catch on quite so quick. He did, though.

It only took him six days, but I gotta say-- those were six fucking amazing days and nights.

I think he thought so, too, even if he *did* spend the majority of the time with my cock in his mouth... when it wasn't planted deep in that tight, firm, peasant-y ass of his, I mean. 'S not like he ever fought me off, or anything. No, he just... let me.

He let me slip between those cool, supple lips of his, his tongue caressing and stroking me, *and* he let me deep inside that tight, wildly pleasurable ass, and he let me do it repeatedly, and... I can't believe he caught on to my game after less than a week.

He was *supposed* to be so wracked with guilt that he'd let me go on having him at will for at *least* a month or two. Guess I underestimated his intelligence, though, because... six days.

~~~~

There I was, just going along, having a bit of a chuckle at my Sire's expense. I'd been spending some time at that karaoke bar his swishy green friend owned, because, honestly? Where else could I go, without having to kill someone, I mean. Seems word of my switch to the side of 'good' spread all the way to LA, and frankly... I didn't want to spend all my leisure time fighting. Not that I'd ever say that out loud, because Hell, I *do* like a nice spot of violence, but... not *all* the time. Besides, I figured it wouldn't look good if I walked back into the hotel all bloody and bruised. Probably piss off the sodding wanker no end. Of course, if I *did* show up looking like that, it'd most likely get me another dose of Sire's blood, but... No, I was getting that already. Not the point, though.

Okay, so I went to the bloody demon bar, right? All in a day's not-working. Nothing unusual there. Or not until I got back to the hotel, anyway.

I walked in, and dashed up the stairs, ready for a little game of hide the bloody great sausage with Angel-- the hiding to be done by me, of course, and in the location of my choosing-- and I was hard as a fucking rock by the time I stepped into his... our... room. Well, all my barely-formed plans went straight to hell right then, because...

Suddenly, I was becoming *very* well acquainted with the wall. It's a nice wall. All white with paint. Small bubbles dried in, where whoever did the painting must've stirred too hard. It consumed all my attention until I felt his big, rough hands ripping the clothes from my body, and then... what wall?

His arm was hard across my back, holding me still-- like I'd've wanted to move, anyway. My mind spun, before settling onto one simple fact. My Sire was showing me that he actually *was* my Sire. Even with the soul stuck inside him, he was... "An..." I began, but he growled, and the low, thick sound of it, combined with the sensation of his hard, almost threatening cock against my back had me silent, all of a sudden.

I could feel the air gusting against my skin as he spoke, and I cringed slightly when I realized... he *knew*! He knew what I'd been doing, with those soft, deliberately un-hidden sighs, and that look I'd come up with especially for him. He knew, and he was either angry or amused; I couldn't quite tell which. Maybe a little of both, I decided, when he rammed one large finger deep into my ass, totally dry. He was acting like a fucking vampire!

All the days and nights we'd spent, and aside from a bit of blood-drinking, he'd been almost human-like, but... suddenly, he was acting like the demon he'd been for almost two hundred fifty years, and I don't think I could've gotten any harder than I was right then. I was wrong, though, because next thing, the bloody poncy bastard forced another hard, rough finger inside me, and... Fuck, I was bleeding!

I could feel the first small trickles slipping from me, coating his hand, and when he added yet another digit? Well, let's just say I could have broken rock with my own cock, I was so bleedin' hard. My back arched, and I pressed back against him-- as much as I could, anyway, what with that arm still shoving my chest into the wall.

My cock was rubbing roughly against that painted surface, and fuck if it wouldn't have a small, discoloured spot forever, but I didn't care much about that right then. No, right at that moment, all I could think was...

"Sire, please!" And I'm such a fucking ponce myself, because all I wanted was to feel that big, thick cock slamming deeply... fully... into my ass. Not that his hand wasn't bloody-fucking-wonderful, but... And he had the sodding nerve to fucking ask me *what*! As if it wasn't completely bloody clear from the way I was trying to take his fingers even deeper.

So I told him-- okay, begged him-- to fuck me, and... Jesus fucking Christ! I finally got what he was trying to do. Yes, he was finally acting like the vampire I'd always known he was, but... with such a human fucking motivation! He wanted to fucking tease me into saying it, the prancy git!

But his fingers were gone, and I could feel the broad, seeping head of his cock positioned lightly against my throbbing asshole, and... The bastard never *did* play fair. He has the nerve to wonder constantly about why I'm always playing fucking *games*, but I don't think he's ever looked to himself for the reason. I mean, I wasn't fucking like that when I was human, was I? No, I was all too transparent. Not a devious, scheming bone in my body then. Never occurred to the swishy sod that I learned from the best, did it?

Still, the previous six days had been truly fascinating, but something had been missing, and... Oh, bloody hell. I'd never been able to resist him, and I wasn't about to start. I sighed to myself, and said almost what he wanted to hear. "Make love to me, Sire," I said, sounding just like the fucking pouf I am, and the next thing I know, my chest was sliding down the wall a bit as he pulled my hips towards him, and when that long, thick rod of his pressed hard against my anus, I couldn't help relaxing until finally, he was in.

I felt his balls resting against mine for just a moment, and it was the undeniable rightness that had me sobbing like a little girl, more than his mumbles of love.

Everything went by in a blur for a bit then, and I don't think I had a single thought in my head until I heard it. My own voice. And what the *fuck*? "Love you, Angel," I heard myself saying, and the fact that it was true didn't make it any less upsetting. I should have staked myself before saying that out loud, because my fucking Sire knows how to play the fucking game even better than *I* do, and I just knew he was gonna start in on me then.

But there were suddenly tears in his eyes, and such an expression of complete delight on his face, that I suddenly didn't care. Hell, he could have done *anything* to me right then, and I wouldn't have minded, as long as that expression stayed on his face. Still, I was trying to watch him over my shoulder, and that seemed to be getting in the way of the shagging we were engaged in, so I turned my face into the wall again, and tried to steel myself for whatever the sodding prick was going to do next, which turned out to be...

Bloody *fucking* hell! He just kept... loving me. Slowly, smoothly, deeply stroking into my ass. I was still bleeding, what with the truly astounding size of him, but it's not like a little blood ever bothered me, and apparently, saying it *once* opened some sort of floodgate in my head, because all I could manage to do was repeat those words in time with his tender, wicked thrusts. "Love... you... love... you..." on and on. And his hand wrapped around me, grabbing onto my anxious cock, and it was only moments before I felt him swelling even more inside me, his balls tighter than sin against mine, and... Hell! Just feeling his thick, wild seed filling me was enough to send me off, myself.

I was still breathing hard when he slowly pulled himself from me, and I almost wanted to curse him for ending the moment we'd shared, but... Fuck, he was on his knees, and his tongue was... was... *Jesus*-*fuck*!

My eyes rolled back, and I was never more glad of my friendly wall, because I needed it to hold me up. His tongue dug deep into my cum-filled hole, and... I'd never felt anything like it. Ever. Not in all my years, both human and demon, had I known that sort of... I can't even begin to describe it.

Angel seemed to be enjoying it, though probably not as much as *I* did. Still, I could see the seeping tip of his hard-again cock when I glanced down my body, and... then he pulled away, and stood up behind me, and his arms were around me, and...

~~~~

So. What do I do with a very naked, very hard, thoroughly beautiful nancy-boy of a vampire? One who's holding me close even now. The answer seems obvious to me, and apparently to him as well, because when I start pushing him back towards that big bed of ours, he doesn't even *try* to act reluctant. And that's good, because the sodding prick could have thought he'd proved something with his little 'me vampire, you Jane' moment, but he didn't. Or not really.

His eyes are hot on me, and golden, and that cock of his is bouncing just a bit with each step, but then again, so is mine. I'm itching to be buried deep inside that splendid ass of his, and this time, I'm gonna be the one making him beg.

He's gonna beg, and plead, and shout out loud that he loves me. No more soft murmurs for *this* boy. Oh, no; I'm gonna make him yell it out loud enough that cheerleader and Wussy'll hear it in their apartments across town.

I think he can see something of that in my eyes, because the poncy bastard suddenly looks worried. That caveman brow of his is furrowing, even with the ridges, and if I weren't so intent upon this little plan of mine, I'd probably find it to be a big fucking laugh. But I push him back on the bed, instead, and fling myself on top of him. His nipples are tight, and hard, and when I twist them roughly, digging in just a bit with my nails? Well, what do you know, that worried look's all gone. It's gonna stay gone, too, if I have anything to say about it.

My hands are rough on his skin, and damned if he isn't purring. And I still want to make him scream, but not because I'm being harsh, damn it! No, I want him screaming my name as I take him gently, with all the love and lust and need in my cold little heart.

So my touch grows softer, and he's watching me from beneath hooded eyes, and when my fingers finally reach his cock, he growls slightly, but I just smile. "Hush up, you big Pouf," I tell him, "Take it like a man."

A small smile crosses his lips, and I abandon his shaft, slipping my hand between his legs. I can feel the small beads of sweat on the back of his sac, and I wipe them away while his legs move farther apart. That sweat's gonna have to do, and it does, because the first two fingers of my hand slide deep into his tight little bud without even token resistance.

I watch his eyes as I bend and twist those fingers inside him, and watch them even more closely when I add two more. Hell, I've got almost my whole hand inside him, and he seems to be taking it like a champ! Almost makes me want to see if he can take the rest of it with that same aplomb, but... that's a task for another time. When we've got the fucking lube out.

So I slide my hand in and out a few times, twisting my wrist a lot, and when his cock jumps more wildly, I know it's time, and I pull away. My knees shift, until he's spread out before me like some kind of erotic demonic buffet, but I'll eat my fill some other time, because right now? All I can think about is being deep inside that ass I've come to know so well recently.

Familiarity does *not* breed fucking contempt, because I know exactly how perfectly tight the fucking pouf is. Doesn't mean I slide into him all slow and tender-like, because I don't. I press one of his knees to his chest, line myself up, and dive right in!

He grunts loudly when the violence of my first thrust tears him, but it's all about blood, right? The smell of it, the feel of it coating my hungry shaft... the taste of it, but that'll come later. He's bleeding, and his eyes are wide, and they only go wider when I pull myself almost entirely from him. "Like that, Peaches?" I demand, even as I slow my re-entry. I feel his balls against my short, dark curls, and his fingers fasten onto my arms, but he doesn't say a word; he just... stares at me, and I could almost swear his gaze is piercing me to the depths of my soul-- if I had one. So, "Answer me," I grate out, pulling back again.

He bares his teeth, in either a grimace of a grin, I don't know which. I'm leaning towards the latter, though, because the big fairy is groaning, with that little hitched whimper in the sound. "Yesss..." he finally hisses, and I know I've won. He *will* be screaming for me soon.

Still, I want to be sure, so the next time I drive fully into him, I stop, my cock brushing hard against his prostate. His eyes blink wildly for a few moments, then clench closed as I pull back only a couple of inches, then reverse the motion. Oh, yeah. This is *good*. Hell, I could keep this up all night!

I feel him shuddering, so I keep doing what I started, and when his back arches, his cock spewing gushes of thick, salty seed onto his belly, it's all I can do to keep myself from following him. I do, though.

I see the shock in his eyes when he realizes I'm more than ready to go on. "Will..." he says, and it almost sounds like he's pleading, but... almost isn't quite good enough. Three or four more times ought to do it, though. His ass is gonna be fucking *sore* by the time I'm done with him. Don't know how he got to be such a great sodding git of a ponce being celibate for so long, but it works in my favour, don't it?

"Take it like a man," I tell him again, even as I start up again. He's so fucking tight, and the way he moves against me is just... fucking wonderful. I could cum just from watching those abs of his flexing in time with our movements. Don't want to, though, so I lock my eyes on his.

The second time he cums without me, he starts looking a little annoyed. After the third, he's almost angry. Of course, I'm just about ready to stake myself if I don't cum soon, but... I pull back, leaving just the head of my cock inside that bleeding, tight ring of muscle, and I shift my hips from side to side, grinning wickedly when he groans. "Scream for me, pet," I murmur, and he stills completely for just a moment. "Angel," I say quietly, "I want you to *scream*!"

I don't give him time to think about it, I just... slam myself deep inside him, glorying in the intensified flow of blood around my cock. I feel him throbbing against my belly, both our skins slick with the seed he's already spilled, and I pull back one more time. "Scream!" I demand, and as I sink into him one last time, the poncy bugger finally does.

"William!" he shouts, so loud I'd go deaf if I were human, and "Will!" again, when I press even deeper, and fill his ass with the cum that's been wanting *out* for the last couple hours, and... our stomachs are even slicker than they were a moment ago.

I don't mind, though, because it's *Angel's* cum, and it pretty much *belongs* on me. Or *in* me; whichever. So I collapse on him, my lips by his ear as his hands slide down my back. I don't think he knew I could do that to him. Make him lose control like that, time after time. Hell, I didn't know it for sure, myself, until now. But as surprising as the knowledge is, it's welcome, as well. He has the ability to make me completely crazy; it's nice to know that's something we share. It's a timeless moment.

Still, I can't stay in his ass all night, as appealing as that may sound, so I pull my weary cock from the great pouf's still-twitching asshole, and I'm about to lay down beside him when I remember how our time against the wall ended. He seemed to like it, and fuck me if *I* didn't, so...

I slip down his body, my hand pushing his leg up to his chest again, and I'm feeling incredibly smug when I see the tears and splits I made in his anus. They're still seeping a bit, which is hardly surprising, considering the amount of blood drying on my cock.

"You'll be loose as a fucking two dollar whore if we keep this up, Peaches," I say, because I can't keep myself from teasing him. I can feel him gathering his brain together for what I'm sure he thinks will be a scathing come back, but that's when I lean forward, taking one long, slow swipe at him with my tongue, and... what do you know? Bloody ponce isn't saying a word!

The taste is... well, it's not like anything I could have imagined. It's... nice, though, and before I even know it, I've got my tongue buried deep between his cheeks, and I'm sucking as much of my essence from him as I can, and... Damned if I'm not fucking hard again!

Christ, it seems like all we do any more is *fuck*! Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but... Not *my* fault the bloody ponce is so irresistible, is it?

So I finish up, and I'm amazed to see that he's *not* hard. Maybe I did it wrong, then, because when *he* did that to me? Well, it led to...

But no. He's looking at me, and his eyes, alone, are telling me just how much he *did* enjoy having my tongue in his bum. He pulls me up his body, and presses his lips to mine, and he groans when he tastes me and his blood there.

His hand slides down my chest, over my abdomen, and his fingers wrap softly around my cock, even as he pushes me onto my back. "Why don't you let *me* take care of this," he purrs, and all I can do is nod as his lips follow the path his hand made a moment ago.

I guess my Sire's poor cock is tired, after the five or six orgasms. I can understand that; he *is* almost two hundred and fifty years old, after all. Doesn't mean he can't suck *my* cock, though. Fortunately, he seems to enjoy it.

I'm starting to think that getting caught at my game wasn't necessarily a *bad* thing. Damned if I'll ever admit it, though. "Fuck, Angel," I moan, "Harder!"

End.

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